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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28486302">it's nice to have a friend</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemongrassAndSleep/pseuds/LemongrassAndSleep'>LemongrassAndSleep</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Madam Secretary</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Secret Relationship, also ally is bi just because, i would kill and die for blake moran, i'm such a slut for blake and stevie, just you wait until elizabeth finds out its going to be so funny, that one kiss set off something inside me and now i can't stop writing fanfic for them, we were ROBBED</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:08:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,313</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28486302</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemongrassAndSleep/pseuds/LemongrassAndSleep</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stevie: You’re freaking out, aren’t you?</p><p>Blake smiled to himself as he tapped out a reply.</p><p>You: Yes. Am I that predictable?</p><p>He put his head on the counter while he waited for her response. The coolness of the marble offset the fog in his brain caused by the three glasses of wine he’d had at the bar. He couldn’t stop thinking about the softness of her lips.</p><p>Stevie: I’m coming over. Text me your address x</p><p> </p><p>What if it wasn't just a thing?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elizabeth McCord/Henry McCord, Stevie McCord/Blake Moran</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>ao3 (and also me) is deprived of Blake/Stevie content, so i had to take matters into my own hands, hope you enjoy &lt;3</p><p>also this is for Meg, because i love Meg.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Blake was freaking out. He promised Stevie he wouldn’t, and yet the second she walked away his brain started throwing out scenarios so fast he was struggling to process them. Surely what he’d just done was an ethics violation? And it had happened so </span>
  <em>
    <span>publicly</span>
  </em>
  <span>, what if a reporter had seen them? He would wake up tomorrow and the picture of him and Stevie would be all over the internet and the papers. Yet another excuse for the media to make a spectacle of Stevie’s private life. He should call the Secretary so she can hear it from him first-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His phone pinged and Blake lent over the kitchen counter to look, convinced it was Daisy sending screenshots of some gossip site with photo evidence of his wrongdoings. His heart stopped beating quite so aggressively when he saw it was a text from Stevie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re freaking out, aren’t you?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake smiled to himself as he tapped out a reply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes. Am I that predictable?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He put his head on the counter while he waited for her response. The coolness of the marble offset the fog in his brain caused by the three glasses of wine he’d had at the bar. He couldn’t stop thinking about the softness of her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m coming over. Text me your address x</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the voice at the back of his head screaming that this was a bad idea, Blake sent over his address and went into to splash some cold water on his face in an attempt to calm down. He thought about the evening he’d spent with Stevie, how he’d actually been able to ignore the anxiety that usually ate him up inside as he went about his days. His protests at Stevie’s knowledge of the plastic flamingo panic were empty, he’d gladly tell her any of his embarrassing stories if he got to hear her laugh again (although he would have to get his own back on the Secretary eventually). He’d always liked Stevie, looked forward to the times he’d stop by Secretary McCord’s house and she’d be in the kitchen cooking dinner or sitting at the table typing away on her laptop. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment in the evening that the butterflies had made themselves at home in his stomach but the nature of his feelings towards the eldest McCord child had definitely shifted and that terrified him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The buzz of the doorbell disrupted his thoughts and he ran down the stairs to open the door for Stevie. Resisting the urge to kiss her again he gestured for her to come in and led her up the stairs to his apartment. Silence followed them all the way up to the fifth floor. They were in his kitchen before either one spoke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought I made you promise not to freak out?” Stevie said, breaking the silence. Blake missed the smile that undercut her question and immediately began apologising. “Hey, hey, it’s fine, I was joking. You have no control over this, you don’t need to apologise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without thinking, she placed her hand on his arm to comfort him, but once she’d done it she was hyper aware of the places where she made contact with Blake, even through the sleeve of his suit jacket. “I’m sorry,” Blake said, “I can’t stand even the </span>
  <em>
    <span>idea </span>
  </em>
  <span>of anyone being mad at me.” He sighed, “but for some reason especially not you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t need to apologise, I’m sorry you thought I was mad, I won’t joke about it again,” Stevie said, as Blake flopped down on his sofa. He gestured to the space next to him, and she took that as an invitation to take a seat at his side. She took a deep breath. “I really like you Blake.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake smiled to himself, and reached into her lap to take her hand. “I really like you too, Stevie.” His smile faltered. “But we can’t do this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie frowned. “I thought about this all the way home and all the way over here. Why can’t we? I know it will be weird for my mom at first, but it’s not like </span>
  <em>
    <span>we </span>
  </em>
  <span>work together? There’s nothing wrong with it, if you think about it.” She squeezed his hand. “I really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>like you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stevie-” Blake paused, thinking about how much calmer his mind seems to be when they’re together, the way his heart jumped as his hand made contact with hers on top of the bill at the bar, the slight disappointment he’d felt when they agreed on the term ‘friends’. “You didn’t want to be in the public eye when your mom became the Secretary of State. You saw what happened when there was even the slightest </span>
  <em>
    <span>suggestion </span>
  </em>
  <span>you were dating President Dalton’s son, could you imagine the field day the press would have if it got out that we’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>kissed</span>
  </em>
  <span>, let alone that we were dating? I don’t want to put you through it. Besides that, it might actually finish Daisy off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t care.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stevie, I’ve dated men. Someone’s going to find out, it’s not like I’ve been actively hiding it. Most people struggle with the concept of bisexuality, and it’s not like the newspapers in this town are familiar with the concept of nuance. Do you really want to deal with them harassing you about your boyfriend being ‘gay’? You know that makes you a lesbian by default, don’t you?” Blake’s voice was getting higher and higher pitched and Stevie had to stifle a laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t care what they think about me-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stevie-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t! But of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I understand that it’s different for you.” Stevie rested her head on Blake’s arm, too short even sat down to reach his shoulder comfortably. “I should’ve realised it’s different for you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake released his hand from hers, and Stevie felt her heart break a little bit, before she realised it freed him up to put his arm around her shoulders and pull her closer to him. He was silent for a few moments, thinking, and the only sounds were the noise of the traffic outside and the ticking clock in the bathroom. He knew he couldn’t just be friends with Stevie, and the thought of not getting to be around her filled him with a sadness he’d only felt on a number of occasions he could count on one hand. She never judged him for his anxieties, and if she did poke fun at him, he knew she was anything but serious. He left all of their conversations feeling lighter, almost. He knew he’d regret forever not even giving this - them - a go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie decided she’d rather sit like this forever, waiting for Blake to speak, than have to deal with the rejection she’d convinced herself was coming, have to mourn the relationship that she and Blake never had the chance to try. She struggled to believe that when she woke up this morning, Blake was no more to her than her mother’s assistant, who usually she got on well with but who had upset her the night before. Here she was, almost in tears at the thought of not getting to kiss Blake again, to be in his arms again. What was that Kierkegaard quote? ‘The most painful state of being is remembering the future, particularly the one you’ll never have.’ She went through it once with Alex- Dmitri, she wasn’t sure she would get through it again. Her heart almost jumped out of her mouth when Blake hesitantly began to speak again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think-” He stopped, took a deep breath, trying to get the words right. Stevie twisted so she could look at him as he talked, tried not to kiss him again. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>like you, Stephanie McCord, but I don’t know if I’m ready for the scrutiny if this, if we, become public. Can we keep it quiet, just for a bit? I want to give us a chance, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie gave in, closed the distance between her and Blake, like she’d done only a few hours earlier, and kissed him. “Of course we can,” she said, pulling away. “Are you going to be able to keep it from my mom though? You’re very, um, loyal. You sure you can keep it a secret?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Blake said, feigning offence, “I kept my bisexuality from her for </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I’m pretty sure I can resist the urge to tell her about this for a few months.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A few months, huh? That’s a lot of faith you have in this relationship,” Stevie smiled, kissing him again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never underestimate the power of my feelings for brilliant women.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Blake faces the secretary</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blake had been staring at the ceiling for three hours. In fifty six minutes he would have to get up and get ready to face his boss, remembering <em> not </em>to tell her that him and her daughter had kissed nine hours earlier (and admittedly a lot of times since then). Him and Stevie had both decided it was way too soon to tell anybody about this thing they were trying, and yet Blake already felt crippling guilt wash over him every time he thought about seeing the Secretary. The thought of her finding out before they decided they were ready for people to know, how disappointed she’d be that they’d kept it from her, made Blake’s stomach turn. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, thinking he was going to have to go and dry heave into the toilet, but the movement woke Stevie up. She opened her eyes, protesting how early it was, and reached out across the covers searching for Blake.</p><p>“What time is it?” She asked, her throat still croaky from sleep, and rubbed her eyes. </p><p>Blake checked the digital clock he kept on his nightstand. “3:37.” </p><p>“You get up <em> this early </em>? Jesus you need a pay rise,” Stevie said as she pushed herself upright. Blake couldn’t resist leaning over to give her a kiss on the forehead, his fears about seeing Secretary McCord forgotten for a few moments. </p><p>“I don’t have to get up until four thirty, but I couldn’t sleep. So, breakfast?” He joked, eliciting an incoherent mumble from an already half-asleep Stevie. He smiled to himself as she slid back under the covers of his bed and he stood up, deciding <em> somebody </em> in this apartment should get more than three hours of sleep. </p><p>He decided to go for a run to burn off some of the nervous energy he was feeling, despite it still being dark out. In truth, he liked running before the rest of DC woke up. It was the only time of day nobody was going to disturb him. </p><p>His phone screen read 4:27 when he got back to his apartment, the time he usually would be getting up for the day. He showered, getting dressed in the bathroom so he wouldn’t wake Stevie up, and went into the kitchen to pour some food into Mrs Meow’s bowl. Not used to having someone else in the apartment, he wasn’t careful about noise, and a few moments later a grumpy looking Stevie walked into the kitchen, wearing the old t-shirt Blake had found her last night. </p><p>“Seriously, I’m telling my mom to pay you more,” she said as she wrapped her arms around Blake, who was filling up Mrs Meow’s water bowl at the sink.</p><p>“Well I’m not going to say no to that,” he laughed, putting the bowl on the floor. He paused, and Stevie could sense something was off. </p><p>“What’s up?” She frowned, studying his face. </p><p>“I just- It’s nothing, really.” He sighed. “Your mom-“</p><p>“You’re worried about keeping this from her, aren’t you?” She said, jumping onto one of Blake’s kitchen stools. </p><p>“No- Well, yeah,” Blake slumped over, and Stevie thought for a second he was beginning to change his mind about her. </p><p>“She’ll get it. I’ve never gone running to her the second I’ve started seeing a guy, and it’s not like there’s any precedent for you talking about your relationships with her, right?”</p><p>“I just hate lying to her, I don’t want to disappoint her,” he said as he slid onto the bar stool next to Stevie. </p><p>“Well if you think about it it’s not really <em> lying, </em>just, choosing not to share,” she grabbed his hand and squeezed it by way of reassurance. “Besides, I don’t think you’ve ever disappointed her. I’m pretty sure if given the choice she would trade all of her own children in for you.” Blake laughed at this. “I don’t want to give you one more thing to worry about, though. If you need to tell her you should tell her. It’s completely up to you.”</p><p>“Thanks Stevie,” he smiled and kissed her on the forehead, jumping up from his seat. “Pancakes?”</p><p>“I never say no to pancakes.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Blake met Secretary McCord at the elevator at seven, pastry in hand, just like he always did. She looked like she was in a good mood today, and she smiled brightly at him. </p><p>“Morning Blake!” She said, taking her coffee and the paper bag containing her breakfast from him. </p><p>“Morning ma’am,” he said, following after her as she walked to her office. “You have the Brazilian Ambassador at eight, and then you’re needed at the White House after that.”</p><p>“Thanks Blake,” she said, taking off her coat as she got to her office door. “Could you try and get a hold of Stevie? We were supposed to have lunch today but I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning, just wanted to make sure she’s still up for it.”</p><p>Blake was sure his face had flushed bright red, but he tried to keep his reaction measured as he took the Secretary’s coat and hung it up in her closet. He managed to choke out an ‘I’ll get right on that ma’am’, and promptly made his excuses to leave. Luckily for Blake, Elizabeth was too busy devouring her pain au chocolat to notice. Unluckily for him, Daisy was waiting at his desk as he rounded the corner, giving him no time to compose himself. </p><p>“You okay Blake?” She said, with a look of genuine concern on her face. He would have been touched if he wasn’t so flustered. </p><p>“I am so good,” he swallowed. “Amazing, never been better.” </p><p>All it took was Daisy tilting her head the slightest bit for him to break. “Me and Stevie kissed yesterday, she stayed the night, I made her pancakes this morning. Chocolate chip.” He paused, all but putting his hands over his mouth to silence himself, as he tried to process what he’d just revealed. “Oh god, you can’t tell anyone, we decided it was too early to say anything, the secretary doesn’t even know.”</p><p>Daisy was just confused. “Stevie…?”</p><p>“McCord? The secretary’s daughter Stevie?” he clarified, and Daisy’s look of confusion was replaced with one of pure panic. </p><p>“You did <em> what </em>?!” Several seventh floor employees turned to see what was happening, leaving Blake with no choice but to usher her into the conference room. “Didn’t she chew you out for being a jerk, like, two days ago?”</p><p>“Yeah, and then she said I could buy her a drink to make up for it, except it was more like three, and we were talking on the way home and she kissed me, and then, you know, I kissed her back, and we decided we really shouldn’t have done that and she made me promise not to freak out except I <em> was, </em>you know? Because I’d just kissed my boss’ daughter, and then she came over to my apartment because I was freaking out and eventually we decided to have a go at it and then we kissed a few more times. I really like her.” Blake rambled, pausing to take a deep breath. </p><p>Daisy looked at him for a few seconds and Blake was pretty sure she was doing her best not to scream at him. “I swear to god one of these days I’m going to have a heart attack. Did anybody see you?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>“Incredible, amazing, looks like my heart attack is going to happen sooner than I thought.” She paused to smile at him. “Good for you though Blake. It’s about time you got a life outside work.”</p><p>“You <em> cannot </em>tell anyone. Like I said, not even the secretary knows.” Blake was about to get on his knees and beg like his life depended on it. </p><p>“I won’t. It’s a good job you told me though, so I can be on the lookout,” Daisy said, sliding into her seat for the morning’s meeting. Blake heard the movement of the sliding doors at that moment and scurried to his seat, mouthing <em> thank you </em> to Daisy when Matt had his back turned. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The rest of the morning was uneventful, and Blake even managed to forget about the stress of keeping his day old relationship a secret from his boss, mostly due to the fact that he wasn’t keeping the secret from <em> everyone </em>now.  </p><p>Blake was sitting at his desk, trying to contact a Saudi ambassador who was doing his very best <em> not </em>to be contacted, when he looked up to see Stevie walking towards him. She smiled at him, and he shot up out of his seat to stand awkwardly behind his desk. The rest of the morning was uneventful, that is, until Stevie showed up at the state department.</p><p>“Hey Blake, I’m supposed to be meeting my mom for lunch?”</p><p>Blake didn’t say anything, distracted by the voice in his head telling him to behave normally. Of course, now he was behaving anything but normal.</p><p>“Blake?”</p><p>“Sorry, what?” He shook his head as if trying to dislodge his panic. Stevie, ever the laid back one, tried to keep her amusement from showing on her face.</p><p>“Lunch?” </p><p>“Oh right, sorry, your mom- the Secretary- your mom- Secretary McCord is caught in a meeting, but I’m sure she’ll be done in just a moment. Can I get you something while you wait?”</p><p>Stevie laughed, maybe a little too loud, and made an unconvincing attempt to conceal it as a cough. “Blake,” she said quietly, “are you having a stroke?”</p><p>“Maybe?”</p><p>Stevie walked towards the stationary cupboard she knew was opposite her mom’s office, motioning for Blake to follow her. She shut the door behind them and turned on the light. </p><p>“What are we doing?” Blake said, looking around. It wasn’t a big space, and they were very close together. Stevie saw the look of concern on Blake’s face and rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Not <em> that </em>! God, I’m not going to have sex with you this close to my mother, calm down,” she scoffed. “Although I wouldn’t mind a kiss.”</p><p>Blake wrapped his arms around her torso and bent down to kiss her. He felt her smile, then pull away. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed pretty concerned about seeing my mom this morning.”</p><p>“I’ve managed to keep it in. Around her, anyway. I might have told Daisy-” Blake saw Stevie frown. “-but she promised she’d keep it quiet! Anyway, she’s the best person to have on our side in terms of the press.”</p><p>“Okay, well I trust her if you trust her,” Stevie said. “Also, we should probably get out of this closet.”</p><p>In an epically bad stroke of luck, their exit from the cupboard coincided with the end of Elizabeth’s meeting, and the Secretary’s eyes widened as she saw the pair exit the tiny closet together.</p><p>“What-”</p><p>Luckily Stevie was good at thinking on her feet. “Blake was showing me his new binders!” </p><p>“Yep, Stevie wanted binder recommendations. For Russell Jackson!” Blake beamed, feeling particularly proud of his addition to their little story.</p><p>“Russell’s binders are just <em> awful </em>. They’re always falling apart on me, you know...” Stevie said, trailing off as her mother stared at her.</p><p>“Binders, huh. You’d think the White House would have higher quality stationary.” Elizabeth seemed lost in thought for a moment. “So, where do you want to go for lunch?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thanks for reading! i really want to get better at writing, so if you can think of anything i can improve on, i'd really appreciate a comment (and a kudos if you liked it) :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Stevie must have done something right recently, because today Russell was letting her come to his meetings on the Hill. Of course, it was only if she promised not to be distracting, and that she didn’t do anything ‘annoying’. Quite what Russell deemed under the umbrella of annoying, Stevie didn’t know (to be honest it changed from day to day), but some small part of Stevie’s mind told her he enjoyed her company. Truth be told, she enjoyed his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were walking (more like jogging, at Russell’s pace) to their next meeting when all of a sudden the President’s Chief of Staff interrupted his bitching about the next absolute wet wipe of a congressman he was having to waste his time with next to ask Stevie a question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Before I forget, why is your mother under the impression that the White House has sub-par stationary?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” It had been almost two weeks since the closet incident, and not only had Stevie all but forgotten the cover story she and Blake had concocted, she tended to zone out a little while Russell went on his tirades. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She said Blake was giving you ‘binder recommendations’ when you met her for lunch, since apparently mine are always falling apart on you,” Russell said, stopping abruptly in the empty corridor. Stevie felt her cheeks flush red with embarrassment. “Our binders are just fine, thank you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right, Mr Jackson, your binders are perfectly up to the job. I just- uh, had to ask Blake a question about, um, a surprise party! That’s right, we’re throwing my mom a surprise party and I had to make up an excuse because she caught us leaving a cupboard at the same time,” Stevie managed to get out, clearing her throat as Russell narrowed his eyes at her. He began walking again in the same direction they’d been going before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can tell you’re lying to me Stevie. You’re lucky I don’t care that much about your personal life-“ Russell stopped abruptly, turning around to look at her. “Oh god, ‘binder recommendations’ isn’t a euphemism for something, is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If Stevie was embarrassed before, she wanted to ground to open up and swallow her whole now. “No! No, absolutely not! Oh god, no, okay, there’s no surprise party, but I did have to ask Blake something without people hearing. Including my mom, so, please don’t say anything to her.” All Stevie felt like doing was banging her head against a wall. Instead she had to stand in the halls of the Capitol Building and have a conversation with Russell that was veering dangerously close to her sex life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. I won’t tell your mother you and her assistant are dating,” he shrugged, continuing on towards the meeting they were now late for. Not that he valued the congressman’s time at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Russell!” Stevie hissed, earning a glare from her boss as she hurried to keep up with him. She took a deep breath, remembered that she really liked this internship. “Sorry, Mr Jackson. I didn’t say me and Blake are </span>
  <em>
    <span>dating</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I said I had to ask him a question.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In the </span>
  <em>
    <span>cupboard?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Russell caught himself and shook his head. “Look, I don’t care, I’ve wasted enough time on this conversation already. I won’t say anything, you have nothing to worry about from me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie sighed. So much for keeping things quiet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And then,” Stevie paused to eat a bite of her pasta. “He asked if binder recommendations was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>euphemism for something</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I swear to god Blake if there was ever a good time for me to drop dead it would have been then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake couldn’t help but laugh then. “So, we can add Russell Jackson to the list of people who know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m sorry. He caught me off guard. I still have no idea how he knew, I mean, we’ve managed to keep it from my mom and she was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>CIA analyst</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I can’t believe Russell broke me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you did better than me, it took me less than twenty four hours to crack, remember?” Blake said, taking his and Stevie’s bowls to the sink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That pasta was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so good</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I had no idea you could cook,” Stevie said, moving to help clear up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are many things you don’t know about me Stephanie McCord. I’m a man of mystery.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah? What don’t I know about you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you can’t tell anyone this,” he said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I actually own two pairs of jeans.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Two whole pairs</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You think you know someone and then…” Stevie giggled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously! Not a word to anyone!” Blake laughed with her, placing the bowls on the draining rack next to the sink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your secret’s safe with me.” Stevie refilled their wine glasses and then flopped down on Blake’s sofa. “How was your day?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake joined Stevie on the sofa before answering. “Long, mostly. Daisy told me she’s written a statement about, you know, us. Just to have.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh.” Stevie took a second to think, taking a sip of her wine. “That’s good right? That she’s prepared?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think so. It feels a bit… weird, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right? I don’t know why. Maybe it makes it too official? I’m not used to there being this much pressure.” Stevie frowned. “This <em>is</em> going well, isn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have no complaints,” Blake smiled and placed a kiss on Stevie’s forehead. “Even though I break out in a light sweat every time I see your mother.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie found it weirdly endearing how much he cared about </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, even though it made him sweat. “You remember I don’t mind if you tell her, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but part of me feels like she’d rather it came from you. And besides, I don’t think we’re ready to share yet. I’m enjoying having you to myself,” Blake said, wrapping an arm around Stevie and holding her tight to emphasise his point. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We should probably tell her before she announces, right? Give her a heads up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably,” Blake sighed, still nervous about Elizabeth’s reaction. Or Henry’s. Oh god, he’d forgotten about Henry. “Hey, your dad’s not super protective about your boyfriends, right? He’s not going to threaten to shoot me, or something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My dad… the ethics professor?” Stevie joked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your dad the ex marine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously Blake, you don’t have to worry about my dad. He loves you!” Stevie tried to reassure him, knowing if she didn’t calm his fears he’d be up the whole night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, he loves Blake Moran, his wife’s assistant. Will he love Blake Moran, potential future son-in-law?” he stopped himself once he’d realised what he’d said. “Not that I think we’re going to get married or anything. I mean, I’d love to marry you, but not right now. God! It’s not like I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about marriage-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Blake!” Stevie, who had been watching with amusement this whole time, interrupted him before he blacked out, or something. “It’s fine, I know what you meant, just, chill.” She wrapped an arm around Blake’s torso, hoping to get his heart rate at least below 100. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me? Chill?” Blake joked weakly. “Sorry, I thought I’d freaked you out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope. I’m all good,” Stevie said, grabbing her phone to check the time. “Crap. Okay, I promise I’m not leaving because of what just happened, but I really need to get home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake pouted. “Are you sure you can’t just stay the night?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie kissed him before replying, in the hopes he’d put up less of a fight. “My parents are going to start asking questions soon. There’s only so long I can keep them dithering over how much space to give me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake watched from the sofa as she made sure she had all her stuff. “Okay. I’ll miss you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie laughed at him. “I’m going to see you tomorrow, remember? My mom has a meeting at the White House?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm. I suppose I can last until then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure you’ll be just fine,” Stevie gave Blake a kiss on the forehead before leaving (something only possible when he was sat down). “See you tomorrow, Blake.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hey! hope you enjoyed this chapter, please kudos and maybe leave a comment if you did! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So, I’ve been looking on google-“ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Blake, how many times do I have to tell you to stop googling symptoms! You always convince yourself you’re dying and then you get all anxious and then you convince yourself you’re having a heart attack and you’re going to die sooner than you originally thought.” Stevie took a deep breath as she finished, and Blake blinked at her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you done?” He asked, and Stevie nodded her head. “I’ve been looking on google for home date night ideas, since we both agree that us going out together is too risky, and I’m sure you’re bored of watching me cook pasta.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were laying under Blake’s duvet, Stevie’s head on his chest. Until a few moments ago, she was drifting in and out of sleep, soothed by the rise and fall of his chest and the weight of his arm around her body. “I could never get bored of watching </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>cook </span>
  <em>
    <span>pasta</span>
  </em>
  <span>, since those are my two of my most favourite things, but what did you find on google?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake smiled in the darkness. “Well, one of the suggestions was having a ‘paint off’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie shook her head, remembering her fight with Gareth. “Sorry, relationships and painting don’t go well for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We could make our own book club?” Blake suggested, trying his hardest to remember all the things in the article he’d read.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie looked up at Blake. “You know neither of us have time to read books.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Online workout class?” Blake could’ve sworn he felt Stevie wince. Not that he could blame her, he found those classes excruciating and not because of the exercise. “Okay forget about that one."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This sucks. I wish we could just go to a museum or a restaurant or something like normal people.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Once we tell your parents, and we talk to Daisy and Mike B for some kind of a plan, we can,” Blake reassured her, running his fingers through Stevie’s hair as he spoke, and she sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s dark out. Let’s go for a walk round the park,” Stevie said, throwing the covers back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s almost midnight,” Blake pointed out, pulling the covers back over them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So? Come on, now’s perfect. Nobody’s going to be out, so we don’t have to worry about being seen.” Stevie jumped out of the bed and started pulling her clothes on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s freezing, and you don’t have a proper coat with you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll borrow one of your hoodies then.” Stevie only had her work clothes with her, but she didn’t mind. She was really excited about being with Blake outside of work or his apartment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh you </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Blake raised an eyebrow at her and Stevie giggled, but he went to his dresser and grabbed a hoodie for her to wear over her work shirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Stevie grinned at him, pulling it over her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re welcome,” he said, kissing her on the forehead and looking around for clothing appropriate for a midnight trip to the park.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get dressed,” she ordered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was May, so the temperature in DC stayed in double digits even after the sun had set. After walking around a bit, they’d had sat down on a bench opposite the empty duck pond, and Blake had one arm around her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where do you think the ducks are?” Stevie asked, watching the still water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably asleep, like we should be right now,” Blake answered. Despite his complaining, he really was enjoying being with Stevie outside. Stevie didn’t answer. “This is nice, though. Another brilliant idea from Stevie McCord.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll admit I am quite proud of this one.” The nighttime breeze made Stevie shiver, and she leaned in closer to Blake as he tightened his arm around her to keep her warm. Stevie couldn’t remember the last time she was this happy. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure she’d ever been this happy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stevie?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m really happy we’re doing this. Thank you,” Blake said, looking down at the top of her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The park?” Stevie asked, confused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am too,” she said, lifting her head up and placing her lips on his. “Thank god you had the sense to question my terrible life choices.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake laughed, a small wave guilt washing over him despite Stevie’s obvious forgiveness. “You’re welcome. But also I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t need to be.” Stevie paused, a nagging thought at the back of her head making its way to the forefront. “We have to tell my mom. I think- I can’t see this stopping anytime soon. At least I don’t want it to stop anytime soon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Blake said, simply. “I can’t see it stopping anytime soon either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We should do it this weekend,” Stevie said. She could sense Blake’s anxiety, and decided not to push it anymore for tonight. “We don’t have to make any solid plans now. Just, at least we have a date.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. I can handle that,” Blake said, running his fingers through her hair. He could play with her hair forever, he thought to himself, and that thought didn’t scare him in the slightest. “Can we stay a bit longer?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie would quite happily have sat there in that park until the sun came up. “Sure.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hey! sorry it's been so long, i kept writing chapters and then deciding i wanted another one to come before. also, i realised that blake isn't elizabeth's assistant at the end of season five, but we're four chapters in now so we're just going to roll with it. comments make me happy, and so do kudos so feel free to leave as many of those as you'd like. thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Jay?”</p><p>“Yes Blake?” Jay replied, not taking his eyes away from his computer screen. </p><p>“We need to leave for MSec’s meeting at the White House.”</p><p>“Shit, is that <em> now </em>? Let me get my coat,” Jay shot up from his chair, scrambling to shove the files that were strewn across his desk into his bag. Blake stood in the doorway and waited for him to be ready to go. “How are you doing, anyway? I feel like we haven’t spoken much recently.”</p><p>“We haven’t, sorry. I’ve been… busy,” Blake tried to skirt around questions about his private life, uncomfortable with them at the best of times, but even more so now his private life included the boss’ daughter. </p><p>“Daisy mentioned you’ve been seeing someone?” At this point they were approaching the elevator, the Secretary already in the car, on the phone to Henry about a school thing with Jason.</p><p>“She did?” Blake tried to keep his tone lighthearted, masking the fact he was thinking of all the ways to get his own back later.</p><p>“Yeah. Although now I remember that I wasn’t supposed to tell you that,” he said. “She’s been so busy with Joanna lately, I think all the late nights have fried her brain.” Damage control was mostly what Jay did for a living, and he knew Blake had a soft spot for his co-workers’ kids.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it was,” Blake smiled.</p><p>“So, what’s her name? Or, his name.” Jay tries his hardest, he really does. Blake reminds himself of that now, as he resists the urge to roll his eyes. He appreciates the effort, he tells himself.</p><p>“Stephanie,” Blake said, hoping the use of her full name would prevent Jay from making the connection. Jay’s brow furrows, and Blake watches him, can almost hear his brain working overtime. “We should get drinks tonight. Abby’s got Chloe, right?” Jay was a smart man, he’d work it out sooner or later. Better that Blake set aside some time to get yelled at. So he can prepare. </p><p>They get in the car with the Secretary just as she ends her call with Henry, and Blake briefs her on the rest of her day on the drive to the White House. He’s watching Jay the whole time, the furrow in his brow still there. Although, it could be a result of the ten million other things he’s got on his plate right now. They’re pulling up when the penny finally drops.</p><p>“Ste-” </p><p>“We’re here!” Blake announces, rather too loudly, startling Jay into silence. He shoots the Chief of Staff a look, trying to signal that they’d talk later, and Jay seems to take the hint. Luckily for Blake, whatever was going on with Jason had the Secretary too distracted to notice his uncharacteristically strange behaviour. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>By the end of the day, drinks with Jay had turned into drinks with Jay, Kat, Matt, and Daisy. Jay was merciful enough to wait until Blake was onto his second drink before he mentioned his love life. </p><p>“So. You and the Secretary’s secret daughter?”</p><p>Blake’s drink threatened to come back out his nose, but he managed to compose himself, and looked up to see his colleagues watching him expectantly. “She’s not a <em> secret </em> -” He paused, deciding it wasn’t worth his time, and set his eyes on Daisy. “I don’t know what you’re waiting for, I already told <em> you </em>.”</p><p>“Hang on,” Matt interrupted, “Daisy <em> and </em> Jay knew about your new girlfriend before I did?” He looked hurt, and Blake felt guilty that he felt left out. When he came out to the secretary, he decided to make an effort to be more open about his personal life with his co-workers (who were also his friends, much as it pained him to admit it), and he didn’t mean to leave Matt out of the loop. He didn’t particularly mean to have Daisy and Jay <em> in </em>the loop though, either.</p><p>“I’m sorry Matt,” Blake apologised, sincerely. “Stevie and I were trying to keep it quiet. Next time I date our boss’ daughter you’ll be the first to know.” Despite his joking, Blake promised himself he’d make up for it at a later date.</p><p>“So?” Jay prompted, tired of waiting for the story. </p><p>“So what?” Blake pushed back. “We went out for drinks to make up for me being a jerk to her that time at the Secretary’s house and then things sort of… progressed from there.”</p><p>“Does MSec know?” Matt asked.</p><p>“Not yet,” Blake mumbled, looking down at the sticky table. The topic of the Secretary and her knowing made Blake panicky, and he could feel his heart pick up its pace. Kat, who hadn’t participated in the others’ questioning, silently pushed another beer across the table to him.</p><p>“Dude-” Matt began, but Daisy must have noticed Blake’s anxiety, because she shot him a look and he didn’t finish his sentence. “Is it going well then?”</p><p>“Yeah. I think so, but I don’t want to talk about it anymore until we tell MSec. I just- It makes me feel guilty” Blake explained, willing them to drop the subject. </p><p>“That’s fine Blake. Who wants to see pictures of Joanna?” Daisy asked the group, and Blake breathed a sigh of relief. </p><p>“Me!” they all chorused. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Stevie?” Alison called her sister, who was making stir fry in the kitchen. “Your phone just buzzed.”</p><p>“Can you bring it over here?” Stevie asked, biting into a bit of carrot that was waiting to go in the pan. </p><p>“Sure,” Alison said, picking the phone up and walking it over to the kitchen. The screen was illuminated with the text message, and she couldn’t help but see who’d sent it. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Had to tell Jay and Matt, sworn them to secrecy x </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Stevie grabbed her phone and sent a quick reply, looking up to see Allison still watching her. </p><p>“Stevie,” she began, “why is Blake texting you?”</p><p>“Oh,” Stevie paused, trying to think of an excuse, “it’s probably, uh, um, I don’t… know?”</p><p>Alison stared at her, unimpressed by her fumbling. “You’re dating mom’s assistant aren’t you?”</p><p>“Shhh, keep your voice down!” Stevie hissed. “We didn’t want anyone to know.”</p><p>“We’re the only two in the house,” Alison reminded her. Elizabeth and Henry were at some State dinner, and Jason was at a friend’s for the night. </p><p>“Just, please, don’t tell anyone. We’re going to tell Mom and Dad this weekend, I promise.”</p><p>“Of all the men in the world, you chose <em> Blake </em>? Mom’s going to be thrilled,” Alison said. “Seriously, I can’t imagine him dating anyone.”</p><p>“Well, I’ll have you know he’s very good at it,” Stevie replied, filling up two bowls with the stir fry. </p><p>“How long has it been going on?” </p><p>“A few weeks. Sorry I didn’t tell you, we just didn’t want it to get out.” She handed Ally her bowl and they both carried their food over to the sofa, the table being covered in fabric and bits of paper.</p><p>“I get it. I’m glad you’re happy. And hey, at least you know Mom and Dad will like him, right?"</p><p>“That’s true. Mom loves Blake,” Stevie turned her attention to her sister. “Have <em> you </em> been seeing anyone recently?”</p><p>“I met this girl at a party a few weeks ago , and we’ve been hanging out most days since,” Alison blushed as she said this, the tip of her nose turning pink. “She’s really cool.”</p><p>“Yay Ally! You’re being… safe, aren’t you? I know you won’t get pregnant but STIs-“</p><p>“Okay, yes. Please- don’t. This isn’t a conversation we need to be having,” Alison buried her head in Stevie’s shoulder, her entire face turning red. </p><p>“Oh thank god. I didn’t want to have it any more than you did,” Stevie laughed, her own cheeks turning red. </p><p>“I might bring her home, soon. Obviously not this weekend, but, you know. Soon.”</p><p>“I can’t wait to meet her. Promise I’ll be cool,” Stevie put her arm around her sister and gave her a supportive squeeze. “So, cupcake wars?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>updating twice in twenty four hours? who is she? thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed xx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hey, Blake?” Elizabeth said softly as she approached her assistant’s desk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes ma’am?” Blake said, looking up from the file in front of him. He’d been reading it so long the words still swan in front of his eyes even when he wasn’t looking at it. It was late, and they were the only two left on the seventh floor - Matt, Daisy, and Jay were long gone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I’m all done here for the day, you should head home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, let me get you your coat,” he said, pushing back his chair and standing upright. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks Blake.” The secretary paused, like she was considering whether or not she actually wanted to say what she was thinking about saying. “Blake, you’re friends with Stevie, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake swallowed, not entirely sure he knew where this conversation was going. “Um, yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Henry and I- We-“ She stopped, sighed, debated internally whether she should stop herself before it’s too late. Blake looked at her, and tried his best to keep his expression neutral. “Okay, here it is. We know she’s dating someone, but she’s being really secretive about it, and last time this happened we ended up having to put a secret service detail on her.” She stopped, as if she was waiting for Blake to offer her the details she was looking for, but he kept his face still, not sure what to say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ma’am?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t happen to know who it was, would you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should really talk to Stevie about this, Ma’am. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re thinking.” Blake was also sure he was sweating again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right, forget I asked. Please don’t say anything to Stevie,” she pleaded, and Blake laughed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course not.” Once the Secretary was in the motorcade, Blake took out his phone and fired off a text to Stevie. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Call me before you leave WH x</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Looking back at his message, he realised that would be enough to make anyone - even someone as (usually) chilled out as Stevie - anxious.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Everything’s okay, we just need to talk before you get home x</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Blake made it back to his apartment before his phone rang. As he picked up, he looked at his watch. It was nearly eleven.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” he said. “You’re working late.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, Russell’s been so stressed out recently I’m worried he’s going to have another heart attack. What did you want to talk about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, right, that. Your mom’s on to you,” Blake explained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“On to </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You’re aware we’re both part of this relationship, aren’t you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously, but your mom isn’t. She asked me earlier if I knew who you were dating. I think she’s concerned it’s another Russian spy situation,” he said as he pulled some leftovers out of the fridge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>one time, </span>
  </em>
  <span>why can’t people let it go?” Stevie laughed to herself. “I’m not sure I can blame her to be honest. Although I maintain that I had no idea he was a spy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My confidence in the country’s intelligence network is restored,” Blake deadpanned, grabbing a fork and attacking the leftovers cold. “Hang on, you’re not mad your mom was asking me about your love life?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuming.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But, I’d be asking too, given my track record.” Stevie decided to walk home, giving her more time to come up with a plan for dealing with her mom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what are you going to do? I know we were already planning to tell her this weekend, but what if she asks you before then?” Blake asked her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How about tonight I ask them if my ‘new boyfriend’ can join us for dinner on Saturday? Get to them before they can ask me first?” she suggested.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that not a bit misleading?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, there’s no implication there that they don’t already </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>my new boyfriend.” Stevie paused. “You’re okay if I call you my boyfriend, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, yes?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t sound so sure about that, buddy,” she said. “I don’t have to if you don’t want me to, it’s fine, I can just say ‘friend’ and do the appropriate eyebrow gestures.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake laughed. “How do you gesture with your eyebrows?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh you know, suggestive wiggling,” Stevie explained, laughing herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Suggestive wiggling?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Now there’s a euphemism if ever I heard one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s right up there with ‘binder recommendations’.” She slowed her pace, knowing she was approaching home and wanting to stay on the phone longer. “You’re avoiding the question.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No I’m not,” Blake said. There was silence on the other end of the line, and he became serious again. “I have no problem with being your boyfriend. I just got caught off guard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn, now I don’t get to do my eyebrow gestures,” she joked. “Thanks for being my boyfriend. I also have no problem being your girlfriend,” Stevie blushed, and she was reminded of telephone conversations with her highschool boyfriend of exactly one month. She was almost at her front door now, and she waved at a man on her mom’s detail, who was sitting in the car outside the house. He was new, so he hadn’t had the opportunity to learn his name yet. “I’m home now, have to go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me know what they say about dinner,” Blake said, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice that she couldn’t stay on the phone longer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will do. L- Bye.” She hung up before she could get a reply, hoping he wouldn’t notice her slip. It was too early for that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie waited until after they’d eaten to ask about dinner that weekend. She usually helped her parents tidy up, some small way to thank them for letting their adult college dropout of a daughter live under their roof. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How would you guys feel if I invited the guy I’ve been seeing round for dinner on Saturday?” Even with Blake’s blessing she avoided the use of the b-word, knowing it would likely get them overexcited. Henry and Elizabeth tried their hardest not to make their shared look obvious, but Stevie noticed and rolled her eyes at them. You’d think for two people who had spent a lot of time working in intelligence, they’d know how to be a bit more subtle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sounds great,” Henry spoke first, not trusting his wife to speak </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>contain her obvious glee. Not that she was doing too well at that even when she wasn’t speaking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’d love that.” Elizabeth said, resisting the urge to clap her hands with excitement. “Should I cook?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please don’t!” Stevie practically shouted. She wasn’t so good at hiding her emotions herself. “I’ll cook. Or we can get takeaway. You work long days, mom, I’m sure you don’t want to be spending your weekend cooking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at her daughter, unconvinced by what was obviously a reason to get out of eating her food. “You work pretty long days too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Intern, US Secretary of State. I think your job is harder.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry, who also would do anything to avoid eating Elizabeth’s food, but was slightly better at hiding it, smoothed things over. “Takeout is fine. And you know me and your mom are incredibly proud of your work with Russell Jackson.” Stevie opened her mouth to object. “Before you say anything about making coffee, I think we can all agree that you’re doing the nation a favour by keeping Russell caffeinated.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth laughed, nodding her agreement, and Stevie smiled. “So we’re good for Saturday? No work emergencies?” Especially since an emergency at State would mean no Blake. Henry and Elizabeth confirmed they would be there, and Stevie hugged them. “Great. I promise, you’ll love him.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>okay okay i promise they're going to tell henry and elizabeth in the next chapter. thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Stevie checked herself in the mirror for the eighth time in as many minutes. She tugged at her dress, trying to get it to sit right, and considered changing, not for the first time that evening. What was she thinking, wearing a dress? It was too much. This evening wasn’t a big deal, she told herself over and over. Then again, Blake was probably going to wear a suit. Stevie thought about texting him, and then realised he was probably doing the exact same thing in his bedroom, and decided against it to avoid stressing him out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a knock at the door, and Stevie called for whoever it was to come in. She turned to see Ally standing in the doorway with a sympathetic smile. “I had a feeling you might need help picking an outfit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie’s jaw dropped. “How did you know that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison smiled knowingly. “I must be telepathic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A dress is too much, isn’t it? I don’t want this evening to be a big deal but you know how Blake dresses all the time and I don’t want him to get all self-conscious and-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stevie breathe!” Alison interrupted her rambling, concerned she was about to pass out. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>That </span>
  </em>
  <span>dress is maybe a bit formal for this, but I know you have more casual dresses in your wardrobe. Or maybe a skirt and t-shirt combination?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now why didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>think of that?” Stevie mused, opening her wardrobe and motioning her sister over. “You choose for me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Half an hour later she emerged downstairs, outfit, hair, and makeup courtesy of Alison McCord. She could tell her parents had dressed up, and they were sitting together at the table, takeout menus spread in front of them. “He’s almost here,” she told them as she made her way down the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey- you look great,” Henry said. “We’re not too done up, are we?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you guys are fine. I appreciate you making the effort for this.” She sat herself down next to them, and tried her best not to fidget like she always did when she was nervous. “What were you thinking food-wise?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s totally up to you,” Elizabeth said. “But I really have a craving for Chinese.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Chinese is good,” Stevie smiled at her mom. All of a sudden, she began to second guess the plan. Her smile faltered. Should she warn her parents? Springing Blake on them might not be the best idea she’s ever had. How would she even bring it up with them? </span>
  <em>
    <span>“By the way, my boyfriend is Blake, mom’s assistant.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Oh god, she had to tell them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honey, are you okay?” Elizabeth asked, noticing the shift in her mood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie’s reply was cut off by the phone. She jumped up to get it, and security informed her that Blake Moran was here. “Yeah, let him in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She practically ran to the door, had to get to him before her parents came to the hallway and realised who it was. She stopped to check herself in the mirror one last time before she opened the door and saw Blake. He was holding flowers, and she couldn’t help but smile when she saw him. “Hey Stevie,” he said. “Where are your parents?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie looked behind her, shocked they’d manage to show some restraint and not follow her to the door. “Oh, they’re still in the kitchen.” She pointed to the flowers. “Are those for my mom?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but now I’m second guessing my decision,” he said, looking at the bouquet like it was about to explode.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t you give them to me? Might be less weird for her.” Stevie bit her lip. “We should have told them before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We definitely should have told them before. I feel awful, we can’t just spring this on them,” Blake whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess there’s nothing we can do now,” Stevie whispered back. “Okay, here goes nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took Blake’s hand and led him into the kitchen, where Elizabeth and Henry were looking over the takeout menus, their trying to act cool bordering on rudeness. If Stevie wasn’t so anxious she’d have laughed at them. “Guys?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They looked up, and when Elizabeth saw Blake her face fell. “Blake? There’s not an emergency, is there? This is kind of an important evening.” She spotted the flowers in Stevie’s hand and looked at her quizzically. “Where did those flowers come from?” Blake looked like a deer in the headlights and Stevie cursed herself for not preparing them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No-” Blake began.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom, no. Um, Blake is my boyfriend. The flowers are from him.” Stevie held her breath, waiting for her parents to react.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence descended on the room. They were frozen, their faces displaying almost comic shock as they tried to digest it. Stevie looked to Blake for reassurance, and he looked back with wide eyes, unsure what to do. “Ma’am?” He tried, with no response. “Dr McCord?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry seemed to regain his ability to speak before Elizabeth. “I-” He looked at his wife, trying to work out his response, but she was having an even harder time processing that he was. “I don’t know what to say.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie squeezed Blake’s hand, knowing this wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for. Although, this was better than they’d braced themselves for, nobody was shouting yet. “I know this is a bit of a shock, and I realised right before Blake got here that I should have prepared you beforehand. I’m really sorry I didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You and Blake?” Elizabeth finally said, looking at Stevie. Stevie nodded, and Elizabeth turned to Blake. “You and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stevie</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Blake also nodded, trying his best not to pass out. “Huh.” She turned to her husband, disbelief written on her face. “Blake and Stevie-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry nodded his head. “I know, babe.” He knew he should say something, try and help his wife come to terms with this revelation, or reassure his daughter and her new boyfriend that he was happy for them, but he was struggling to form words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie turned to Henry, knew he would be the easiest to win over, and once he was on her side, he could convince her mom, too. She looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him not to react badly. “I’m happy, Dad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry smiled at her, got up from his chair. Suddenly he realised how hard this must have been for them to do. “Well that’s all that matters,” he said, sincerely. He took Elizabeth’s hand and led her to the end of the kitchen counter where Blake and Stevie stood. Stevie could see she was opening up to the idea of her and Blake, even if she wasn’t totally there yet. Henry shook Blake’s hand, before pulling him into a hug, and Stevie couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom?” She said, quietly. Elizabeth was still having a hard time processing this information. She had so many thoughts and questions that it was hard to isolate just one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long?” She settled on. Her hand was on her stomach, like she’d had the air knocked out of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“About a month,” Stevie replied, wrapping an arm around Blake for comfort. Whether it was for her or for Blake, she couldn’t tell. She’d always known this evening was going to be harder for him. After all, her mother would have to forgive </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> eventually, and she knew how much Elizabeth meant to him. How destroyed he’d be if she didn’t forgive him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” She looked at Blake. “So when I asked…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Blake looked down at the floor, too scared to look at his boss who he admired so much, and who he’d lied to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Elizabeth repeated, slumping against the hard kitchen counter. Henry put a supportive hand on her back, unsure what was going on in her head, but sympathetic regardless. As he always was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even Stevie’s encouraging squeezes didn’t make Blake feel any better. “I’m sorry I lied, Ma’am. It won’t happen again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please don’t blame Blake for this, Mom, I wanted you to hear it from me,” Stevie tried. “We didn’t tell anyone so we could figure out if it was going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be </span>
  </em>
  <span>something, and so the press wouldn’t jump on us before we were ready. I swear, people in this town must be so bored, they will report </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does anybody else know?” Elizabeth asked. She was softening up to them, and the thoughts that were kicking around in her mind were beginning to untangle themselves (turns out the big one was just ‘what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>?’).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alison,” Stevie said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Daisy, and Matt,” Blake added. “Also Kat and Jay,” he said, sheepishly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I bet Daisy was thrilled,” Elizabeth added, wryly, and Blake could tell that she was getting over her shock. She caught his eye, and smiled at him, and suddenly the tension he’d been holding in his chest since he kissed Stevie on the pavement next to the traffic lights dissipated, irrelevant now that he knew his mentor, the woman he admired more than anyone, wasn’t going to hate him forever. He took his first proper deep breath in several weeks, and smiled back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, also Russell Jackson,” Stevie said, far too casually.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Russell Jackson?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Henry repeated, offended that Stevie told her boss, of all people, before she told her own parents.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He was offended that I thought his binders weren’t good enough,” Stevie explained, although her statement meant nothing to Henry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom caught us coming out of a stationary cupboard together at State, and I had to tell her that Blake was giving me binder recommendations,” she elaborated. Henry and Elizabeth shared a look, as they did so often, and she rolled her eyes at them. “No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>binder recommendations </span>
  </em>
  <span>is not a euphemism. God, why does everyone think binder recommendations is a sex thing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ma’am, considering you worked for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>CIA</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I thought you’d have been onto us by now,” Blake quipped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly, now that I think about it, I don’t know how I didn’t see it,” she mused. “Also, since you’re Stevie’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>boyfriend</span>
  </em>
  <span> now, I think you can call me Elizabeth. When we’re not at work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The idea of calling the secretary by her first name made Blake feel like his brain was going to short circuit. He hadn’t even called her Elizabeth in their days at UVa. “I’ll try my best, M- Elizabeth.” The word felt wrong in his mouth, and he vowed to avoid referring to her when they weren’t at work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great,” she said, pulling Blake into a hug which he was very much unprepared for. Henry took the opportunity to hug his daughter, grateful for the fact she’d found someone he knew would treat her the way she deserved to be treated. And who wouldn’t get her killed by Russia.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See, I told you you’d love him,” Stevie joked, wiping away a rogue tear and eliciting a laugh from her parents and Blake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s funny?” Alison asked, coming down the stairs into the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Stevie’s watery eyes and what appeared to be a group hug. “Oh, did I interrupt something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not at all,” Henry said, extending an arm to invite her into the hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Blake,” she said, joining in the embrace. Clearly her parents hadn’t taken it too badly, and she raised her eyebrows at Stevie. Stevie flashed her a look to let Alison know she’d tell her later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Alison,” Blake said. Even though she teased him, he’d always had a soft spot for the middle McCord child.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we order food now?” Elizabeth asked, muffled by the bodies surrounding her. “I’m starving.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Three weeks later, the McCords, along with the (ex) seventh floor staff, stood at the front of a large crowd outside the horse farm. The sun shone in Stevie’s eyes, and she squinted as she watched her mom behind the podium. Blake stood behind her, his arms around her torso to keep her warm, and her heart was full with pride, and love. Elizabeth’s eyes fell on them as she reached the end of her speech, and she flashed them both a smile.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“...Today I am officially announcing my candidacy to be president of the United States.”</span><span>The crowd erupted, and Blake and Stevie clapped and cheered for Elizabeth until their hands were stinging and their throats were sore. She turned to her dad, and when she saw him crying, she allowed herself to do the same. Stevie wasn’t sure she’d properly understood what the word </span><em><span>bliss</span></em> <span>meant until this moment, but now she was riding high on it. She was happy, and she was content, but most of all she was excited for her mom, and for the future.</span></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i can't believe it's over! i'm going to miss this story so much. thank you so so SO much for reading, i can't even begin to express how grateful i am. i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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